


Universe in Motion

by silver_drip



Series: Infinity Earth [7]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Genius Tony Stark, Infinity Gems, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-05-16 12:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19317979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_drip/pseuds/silver_drip
Summary: Tony uses the Infinity Stones to change the universe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for sticking with me!

* * *

 

Erik Killmonger was coming off a high from giving a speech to his militia. Every word he said was met with cheers and agreement. He wasn’t alone anymore, an outcome that he could never have anticipated. 

It was all thanks to the new colonialism. Or how the news dressed it up as ‘global unification’. Erik saw through that though, and he wasn’t the only one. 

In his time with the CIA he had been taught to overthrow governments and had done so more than once. That’s how he knew to gather the people that felt disenfranchised. The ones that had no say. The people that were being left behind. 

There was also the dissatisfied elite. Those were the ones that made him want to sneer. They didn’t care about the people, instead they were colonizers just hoping to steal back what was taken from them. All they were good for was funding. When the time came, he would show them that building their wealth off the sweat of his people would only lead to death. 

His bitterness towards Wakanda had only grown since the UC, United Countries, had spread like wildfire. Once again Wakanda had stuck its head in the sand, furthering its isolation and abandoning all the African people that had whips taken to their back, had been crushed by a racist system, and had been beaten down like dogs. It had stood by and did nothing as countless black people were stolen from their homes and made into slaves. 

Erik would reclaim his birthright soon though—pull Wakanda out of hiding and use their technology for good, use it to overthrow the system that was always against black people. He would kill T’Chaka for murdering his father, his father who saw the travesties of the world and just wanted to equip their people so that they no longer had to suffer under the yoke of colonizers. 

“Erik,” one of his lieutenants said. He looked over at her. She looked worried, an oddity for Sara, and one that set him on edge. 

“What is it?” 

She squared up, alleviating some of his worry. He trusted her—as far as he trusted anyone, at least. 

“It’s easier to show you than explain it.” Sara led him deeper into the bowels of their bunker. They went into one of the ‘interrogation’ rooms. Strapped to a gurney was a fat white man. He was bloody and moaning in pain from one of his many injuries. A bureaucrat for the UC, if Erik remembered correctly. He had information they needed. “Look.” Sara lifted a scalpel that was dripping with blood. She moved to cut the bureaucrat, but stopped a centimeter away.

Erik raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It’s too late to get cold feet.” 

Sara rolled her eyes at him. “You try.” 

Instead the precise tool of a scalpel, Erik chose a hammer. He aimed for the bureaucrat’s already mangled hand. Just before it connected his arm froze, as if it was out of his control. He tried again and again with the same result. 

*

Natasha Romanoff was eating an apple, a red and tasteless one. She chewed mechanically, her thoughts elsewhere. 

SHIELD had become an underground organization almost ten years ago. It had always been shady, but back them they’d had the support and funding the US government. But now there was no US in all but name. Not that it mattered. The US had dropped them with very little warning. SHIELD had been sent floundering. Agents left like blood from an open wound. 

It was only really afloat now because of Howard Stark funneling them money and Steve Rogers’ ability to rally people. Frankly, it was pathetic, and beneath Natasha. She was the Black Widow. She was meant for infiltration and deception, not buying desks in bulk like some Costco soccer mom. 

She didn’t like being on the losing side, but defecting meant leaving Clint behind, and she begrudgingly liked him for some odd reason. He only stuck around because he had some pseudo-family relationship with Phil Coulson.

More often than not she felt like she was fighting the moon to control the tides. Tony Stark had the world at his fingertips. Even if he used James Rhodes and Virginia Potts as the figureheads, she and all of SHIELD knew the truth. 

There was only a handful of countries that still resisted the pull of the UC, mostly ones that had traditionally been enemies of the US—excluding North Korea, which was now going through a mass de-brain washing. UC had flooded them with goods, unbalancing the previous regime enough that in-fighting weakened and destroyed it. The UC was happy to pick up the pieces from there, mostly reunificating North and South Korea. Seoul had already signed a treaty with the UC and that carried over when the two countries became one again. 

Last week, SHIELD had picked up a new patron, Hank Pym. Apparently, the old man had some rivalry with Howard Stark, and since Stark Industries had been steadily declining, Pym was moving in on his ‘territory’. Natasha didn’t care much. Either way it worked to SHIELD’s benefit and therefore her benefit. 

Natasha finished her apple and tossed it. The apple core arced perfectly through the air and into the trashcan. 

It was almost time for another ‘team bonding exercise’. It was complete nonsense to Natasha. The only time she liked working on a team was when they were doing the legwork for her. 

It didn’t help that she wasn’t impressed by the line-up. Clint was the only one she liked. 

At the helm was Steve Rogers, Captain America. He had been out of the ice for nearly a year, but hadn’t made any headway in accepting it. He could use the technology easily enough, but more often than not chose to do things the old fashion way. He was also in complete denial about the new world order. No ‘kid of Howard’s’ could possibly be bad. Steve was perpetually blind when it came to Howard Stark and Peggy Carter. 

Worst of all, Steve had a pep in his step that just oozed annoying. She wanted to work with someone who got straight down to business, not give inspirational speeches. 

His second in command was Sam Wilson, a flyboy that had left the US military when it had been absorbed into the UC ‘peace-keepers’. Like Steve, he was a bit too eager. Natasha didn’t understand how someone could smile so much. Natasha was also tasked with teaching him hand-to-hand combat which was below her. But pay cuts meant SHIELD couldn’t afford to keep on most of their trainers. At least he didn’t get a bug up his ass whenever she knocked him down. 

Sam’s wings were modified from the Ingenium original that had just been meant for search and rescue. Howard had been happy to slap on some guns to it. 

Scott Lang being added to the Avengers had been a condition Pym put in place before he started funding them. His Ant-Man suit was useful—though it would be better use in Natasha’s hands. Scott was kind of a goofball and an optimist. What she had a problem with was his mixed loyalties—not just to Pym, but to the UC. He wasn’t opposed to the world-order, even salivating at the idea of being in proximity with Tony Stark. But, when push came to shove, he’d stick to whatever Pym said since he had worked at Pym Technologies since he graduated college. 

Natasha and Clint made the rest of the line-up, the most experienced and overlooked members. 

Natasha spotted Clint. She grinned. He wasn’t wearing his hearing-aids. That wasn’t odd considering he usually took them out when there was a chance of Steve giving another speech. He wasn’t completely deaf, but he couldn’t hear enough to notice her sneaking up on him. 

Three feet away from him she pounced, intent on putting him in a headlock. She got her arm around his throat, but when she tried to cut off his air supply she couldn’t.

Half a second later Clint tried to flip her. They got into one of their usual scuffles, and Natasha disregarded the anomaly.

*

Howard Stark didn’t understand why he wasn’t happy. His life goal had been achieved. He had found Captain America and brought him back. He’d thought it would be to bury him, but that idea had proven to thankfully wrong. 

Since the Avengers were formed, Howard was seeing less and less of Steve. He knew the Captain was a man of duty and honor, but it still frustrated him that he hardly ever saw him. 

And Howard’s excuses on going to the SHIELD building Cap lived in were running short. There were only so many improvements he could make to Wilson’s wings—that he could make to  _ its _ design. 

Howard was on his fourth wife and he could still get his dick up without medication, but (as the doctors had told him, and he refused to believe) he couldn’t produce an heir. 

The man he’d been grooming to take over SI, Justin Hammer, had fucked off to work in telecommunications once the weapons industry started flagging. Howard had tried diversifying, but  _ it _ blocked him at every turn. 

Howard had never felt so small before, not even when he’d been ten and shining shoes in hopes he’d make enough to buy a meal and make it through another day. 

Now that bastard Pym was trying to infect SHIELD and turn it against him. But not for much longer, not with what Howard planned. 

This wasn’t the first time he’d put out a hit on someone. He had put a high bounty on  _ its _ head, but with no results. Half the damn hit-men got out of the killing business after coming in contact with  _ it _ . The other half acted spooked and barely spoke a word. 

Pym would be an easier target though. Old men died every day, even with  _ Ingenium’s _ frankly impossible medical breakthroughs. 

Sometimes, Howard wished he was back in WWII, when everything made sense. He’d been important and still had his whole life in front of him. He’d had Steve and Peggy, and a revolving door of women. 

War was straightforward, entrenched, but understandable. With force, lands were taken and borders were redrawn. 

Now countries were remade through insidious manners, the promise of technology and medicine. Weapons mysteriously gone missing. Leaders ousted when all their dirty secrets were put in the lime-light. 

Countries no longer fell—they folded, showed their bellies and were rewarded by being part of the UC. Their sovereignty was taken away with the promise of little interference, no more tariffs, and given technology and medicine. The UC would change a few laws and had absolute veto power over any new ones. 

It made Howard sick. Did no one remember the US used to be a proud, independent country? A world power? Did no one care that they had fought for their independence? That men and women had died for it?

At least all of the US hadn’t been led by its nose into the slaughter. SHIELD, and other lesser organizations, still rallied against the UC. But the UC grew stronger each day. They had also used the idea of space exploration as a unifying dream.  _ It _ was going to take them to Mars. Howard knew propaganda when he saw it. 

He settled into his fifth glass of scotch. Sometimes, he wished that he’d never been born.

*

Thanos felt the pinprick of power wash through and around him as he sat upon his barren ship. He flexed his hands, trying to puzzle out what had occurred. He didn’t feel different. It hadn’t been an attack. 

He looked to Ebony Maw, one of his children. He too looked perplexed. 

“Make sure everything is in order,” Thanos said. They were at another nameless planet. He would bring balance to it like he’d done to all those before it. 

Ebony Maw bowed and said, “As you wish.” While still prone he walked backwards until he was at the door. 

Maw, his oldest son, showed him proper respect, unlike his youngest daughter. “Gamora,” he called, knowing she was always close at hand. When he received no response he called for Nebula since she was usually kept tabs on Gamora. Thanos started to get frustrated. 

Corvus Glaive stepped out of the shadows. “I will find them for you, father.” 

Thanos waved him off. He would not indulge Gamora and Nebula in their childish game of hide-and-seek. He had far more important things to do. 

Thanos strengthened his resolve and went planet-side to do what was necessary. 

The native people were already cordoned off into two groups. Now Thanos had to make the decision. He had to sacrifice one side so that the other could live. 

He looked at the children with tears in their eyes. He had to do what no one else would. 

He gestured to those on the left, closing his eyes to block out the worst of it. The high pitch of the guns, screams—but—Thanos opened his eyes. He hadn’t heard the sound of bodies hitting the ground. 

Only a few of the natives were dead, but the majority was untouched. He frowned and gestured for Proxima Midnight to solve the problem. She smiled. His Proxima was always happy to do the killing that made Thanos sick. 

She went towards the cowering people, raising her bladed spear high, but when she brought it down it didn’t reach her target. 

*

Loki would rather be in his study reading. That was far from a revelation. More often than not he’d prefer being alone with his studies and art. 

But here he was, once again bearing witness to Thor’s over enthusiastic battle cries and hammer swinging. Norns, how many years of his life had been wasted watching Thor’s back as the idiot fought like there was no tomorrow. 

With a flick of his wrist he diverted another arrow that had been bound for Thor. He could almost do this with his eyes closed, but if Thor saw him do so he’d tell Odin then Odin and Frigga would scold and push him to ‘act like a proper warrior’. Then he’d be banned from using magic until he proved himself again. 

Those days were always the worst. He felt like he couldn’t fill his lungs all the way. He couldn’t stop sweating, and had to spend most of the day in a cool bath to keep from feeling like he was melting. He avoided that at all costs. 

Unfortunately, a bigger problem was on the horizon. Odin had decreed that Thor was to be crowned king soon. 

It was possibly the dumbest idea Loki had ever heard—which was saying something considering some of the drivel Frandral came up with. 

He knew that trying to talk to Odin about it would just lead to his father saying he was jealous and how he should be thankful not to have to take up the mantle of leadership. If he spoke to Frigga, she’d talk-up all of Thor’s achievements, completely ignoring the ones that were flukes and the ones that would have never happened if Loki hadn’t been there to divert disaster. 

Ultimately, it would be useless. They didn’t care what he had to say. They never did and the coming change of power would just reinforce that. 

Thor was as likely to listen to Loki as he was to stop drinking after just one mead—in other words, never. 

He watched on from a distance as they continued with their subjugation. They had been going on more as of late, on Odin’s order. Loki wagered that Odin was hoping he could sate Thor’s bloodlust, at least for a few years. It would be a fruitless endeavor, no doubt. Yet, the battle raged on.

Frandral and Volstagg were fighting as a team. Frandral would maneuver the people with jabs of his sword right into the range of Volstagg’s axe. Frandral got to hop around and Volstagg didn’t have to move his frankly frightening fat body. 

Thor was crashing through the people, warriors and unarmed alike. His laughter was only blotted out by the occasional crack of thunder. 

Sif and Hogun were at the outskirts, making sure no one got away. Loki was supposed to be doing the same thing, but he usually just used his magic to trip the fleeing then didn’t bother them anymore. He’d give them at least some chance where otherwise they would easily be slaughtered. 

It had been a source of teasing. His trick, as they called it, was ineffective. They mocked him, thinking that that was the best he could do with his magic. In truth, he could erect barriers, and if he wanted to, he could shrink the magical bubble, squeezing tighter and tighter on the people they were subjugating, killing them without having to move an inch. He wasn’t about to tell them that though. 

Besides, Loki believed there should always be survivors when they were proving Asgard’s strength and proving why rebellion was futile. How else were others to know? They could see the mangled corpses, but a tale from the lips of a survivor was much further reaching. 

Loki diverted another hit to Thor, cast a spell that negated the magic of another mage, and tripped a few more fleeing people. 

“Pay attention, Loki!” Sif shouted, always happy to raise her voice. He didn’t even deem to look at her. He felt a sluggish tingle go down his spine, making him stand straighter and be on alert. “Thor! Loki let the mayor get away,” she tattled on him, pointing at the running and breathless man. 

Thor smiled broadly. Loki felt electricity pierce the air as lightning came from Mjolnir—but just before it touched the mayor it curled in on itself and fizzled out. 

“Loki!” Thor shouted, quick to blame him as always. “Stop this new disgracefulness!” 

That was quite a long word for Thor. 

Loki sent green chains to bind the mayor, easily ensnaring him. “It wasn’t any of my doing,” Loki said dryly, his voice cutting through the crowd. 

Thor went to spit more accusations, but the Bifrost swept them upward. The colors sang, blocking out Thor’s shouts of anger.

They landed with their feet firmly in the Bifrost solarium. Thor was quick to try to grab Loki to ‘knock some sense into him’, as he liked to say, but his hands stopped just an inch away. “What fresh dishonor have you wrought against Asgard?” Thor growled out. 

“My Prince,” Heimdall said, his voice a mixture of calm and monotonous, “this is no act of Prince Loki’s.” 

Loki nearly grinned. It was rare for Heimdall to take his side, even when Loki had nothing to do with what new misfortune occurred. 

Loki tilted his chin up. “Aren’t you going to apologize to me for throwing accusations around so foolishly?” Thor’s blue eyes thinned and once again he tried to reach for Loki. “No? How typical.” 

“Remember your place, brother. That is no way to talk to your future king.” Oh how Loki was sick of hearing that already. Norns knew he’d be twice as bad when he actually received the crown. 

“The All-Father is waiting for you two in the throne room,” Heimdall informed them, unaffected by their bickering. 

Thor gave Loki one more derisive look before taking off with Mjolnir. Loki held back a grin and simply teleported to the throne room. He would usually pretend he’d been waiting there for quite a while when Thor appeared moments later, but the tense lines in Odin’s neck gave him pause. 

Rarely did his father seem stressed. Whatever had stilled Thor’s hands and lightning must be grave. 

Thor landed beside Loki. In unison they bowed to their king.

“A great wave of power has come from Midgard.” Odin leaned forward, stroking his beard. “Heimdall can no longer see the realm. You two will go to Midgard and investigate what has happened.”

Loki and Thor nodded before taking their leave.  


	2. Poking and Prodding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Tony saw the whole MCU so his less than stellar attitude in this chapter stems from that :p

* * *

 

The sun-yellow cat prowled back and forth on Pepper Potts’ desk. She didn’t take notice of it, the same way she didn’t take notice that she was breathing. The cat hissed and yowled, carrying on like it hadn’t been fed in days and was forced to take a bath. 

Every so often the cat would pause to see if it had gotten Pepper’s attention. It knew better than to try to lay on the report she was working on. If it did, it would be shucked onto the floor and transformed into something that couldn’t hop back onto the desk. 

Besides, it wasn’t quite solid right now—not when Pepper wasn’t paying attention to him. 

“Kill!” the cat yowled. “Torture them all!” 

He rolled on his back and swiped at the air. At least, Tony said the cat was a ‘he’. Pepper couldn’t really tell considering the cat’s voice was squeaky to her. 

The cat, Ultron, according to Tony was an imprint left on the Mind Stone from one of its previous owners. It followed her like a duckling because she had the Mind Stone. She kept Ultron on a tight leash, not letting it harass people like he did when she initially received the stone. 

Other than Jarvis, she was probably the only one that could put up with Ultron’s constant nattering. The others with Infinity Stones would have doubtlessly tried to strangle the conceptional-creature. 

Ultron knocked down her kinetic desk art, drawing Pepper’s attention. As quick as a viper she caught the cat by the nape of his neck. She pulled him into her lap and started petting him before he could cause anymore damage. The cat reluctantly started purring. Pets were his weakness. 

He usually wasn’t solid unless Pepper willed him to be. The only other time was when the Reality Stone was near. She checked the clock. Jarvis was right on time, as usual. 

Jarvis knocked and she called for him to enter. 

“Greetings, Ms. Potts.” Jarvis had an unwavering sense of politeness, and it still hadn’t worn off now that they were friends. 

“Jarvis.” She made Ultron stand on his hind-legs and wave at Jarvis with a front paw. Ultron’s nails came out, but otherwise he didn’t react. He was still on a purr high.

He sat primly across the desk from her. A cup of tea appeared in his hand and a perfectly made cappuccino rested in front of her. Pepper had to admit, she was jealous of Jarvis having the Reality Stone. If she had it, she’d materialize all sorts of food and goodies. 

Jarvis could handle it better than she could, though. He was able to process a lot more information than she could. 

“We have two visitors,” he stated, lifting his tea to smell it rather than drink it. 

“Really? Will they be a problem?” Pepper knew that it would happen eventually, that aliens would come to Earth. She just didn’t expect it to be so soon. 

Jarvis leaned back in his seat. “I’m not certain. I’ll monitor them for now.”

They both drank in silence for a moment, only Ultron’s purrs breaking it. Pepper was fond of Jarvis. He had a calm air that her other friends tended to lack—especially Tony. 

“I believe the only real trouble they can make is causing panic.” She petted Ultron under his chin. “It might be a good distraction.” Ultron turned on his back. Pepper knew it was a trick so she just booped him on the nose. 

Jarvis watched them, his eyes warm, but analytical. Pepper smiled mischievously. Jarvis narrowed his eyes. “How’s your boyfriend?” Jarvis gave her a Stark patented eye-roll before leaving in a huff. 

Pepper chuckled to herself before Ultron started yowling for her attention again.

*

Steve prided himself in being a decisive man. When all options were in front of him, he was quick to choose the best one. It had always been that way, but now was different. He was still the same old knuckle-head that always stood up to bullies, but the world had changed, and he didn’t recognize it. 

Somethings were good. Poverty was nearly non-existent now, at least in the UC. Medical advancements were combating diseases and problems Steve had never heard of before. Large scale wars were now more of a subdued negotiation rather than a blood-bath.  

But who had the moral high-ground seemed to have no bearing on war. They were always won by the ones with the most money. It made him uneasy, like the world was becoming amoral and everything was at the whims of the rich—At the whims of Tony Stark.

Steve hadn’t been particularly surprised that Howard had had a kid. He hadn’t really seen his friend as a family man, what with his womanizing ways, but Howard had settled down. 

His first and only child had not followed in Howard’s footsteps though. Steve didn’t quite get it, how almost the whole world was controlled by one man. The common people saw James Rhodes as the leader of the UC, but SHIELD made it clear that his power stemmed from Stark and Ingenium. 

The country he loved and fought for was gone in all but name. The UC flag flew higher on poles than the US flag did. 

Stark, designation North, was only one man. He had too much power. On a whim he could kill millions or commit genocide. 

SHIELD needed to know his motives, needed to put a leash on him so that he had oversight. SHIELD had tried time and time again to put spies in his midst, but with no solid results. It was like Stark had a nose for deception. 

That was why they were sending in Steve. His intentions were good. Hopefully that would shine brighter than anything else. 

Steve was led through a winding corridor. He was put off by the building, Ingenium Mansion. It was more of a castle than a mansion though. The place reeked of wealth and self-importance. 

Steve’s cover story was mostly true to who he was, a painter. SHIELD had secured him the chance to paint a portrait of Stark. His mission was for them to become friends and for Steve to get as much information out of him as possible. 

And hopefully get a few clues about the odd anomaly that swept through the world where some physical violence became impossible while others didn’t. 

He was told to wait in a beautiful courtyard. The flowers were well tended. They contrasted with the harsh modern lines of the palace, a juxtaposition that startled him. 

After setting down his painting supplies, Steve went around the courtyard, looking at the flowers and sculptures. 

He tried to let the beauty of it relax him, but felt stiff as a board. He’d never really done spy work before. It didn’t suit his straight forward personality, but he had to do his best. 

Almost a… Steve didn’t want to call it a delegation, but the group had that sort of self-importance, entered the courtyard. There were seven of them, two men, four women, and a person that he really couldn’t guess the gender of. In the middle of it was Stark. They buzzed and used terms he didn’t recognize. Like magic Stark dictated an array of lights, screens with words that flitted and changed, numbers jumping. Fingers twitched and screens were passed as easily as words. They laughed and Steve was brought back to his schooling days, an outsider, drawn to the warmth of the popular children. 

He fended off his melancholy, putting on his best dancing-monkey smile. “Mr. Stark,” he said while stepping forward. Stark didn’t see through the colorful lights, the lights that played in his eyes and for a moment Steve thought he saw something brilliant there. It nudged him to sketch, to paint, to try with all his might to capture even a fraction of the beauty there. 

“Mr. Stark,” Steve tried again. He caught his attention. Stark waved his hand, the screens going to his followers. 

“And you are?” Steve felt a bit exasperated, but didn’t let it show. 

“Steve Byrne. You commissioned me to do a painting of you.” 

“Hmm,” Stark hummed. His eyes flicked around the area, as if just noticing where he was. “Sounds like something Pep would do. I don’t know why.” He shrugged. Steve was already getting irritated with him. “Call me Tony.”

“Alright, Tony, call me Steve then.” He gave a friendly smile that wasn’t returned. 

They spoke briefly about where the painting should take place. Tony was surprisingly willing to listen to his advice. A good twenty minutes later Tony was positioned and Steve was sketching out his basic form. 

“So,  _ Steve _ ,” he drew the name out like he’d never used it before. “What is your stance on lies of omission?” Steve’s hand didn’t falter. 

“A lie is a lie. There’s no two ways about it.” He didn’t even need to think about it. 

“Let me throw a scenario at you.” Steve glanced at Tony, wondering what he was getting at. “You have two friends. One you’ve known for all your life and the other for about a decade. ‘Forever’ killed ‘Decade’s’ parents on accident. Would you keep that knowledge away from ‘decade’?” Tony’s voice was calm, but there was something in his eyes that Steve couldn’t read.

“No, he deserves to know.” Steve was waiting for the catch.

“But what if you thought ‘Decade’ might try to take revenge on ‘Forever’?”

Steve shook his head. “No friend of mine would take revenge.”

“Interesting.” 

Steve remembered that his goal was supposed to be befriending Tony and getting information from him. “Is that something you’re going through right now?” The forever-friend would have to be Janet van Dyne. He didn’t know who the other one would be.

“Nope! I already know what I’d do.” Tony’s smile was almost mocking. “You know about aesthetics, right?” 

The change of subject caught Steve off guard. He smiled, almost chuckling. “Yeah, just a thing or two.” 

“Then what’s up with your,” Tony pointed at him, gesturing up and down at his body. His nose was wrinkled as he did so. 

Steve had to remind himself that part of his mission was becoming friends with Tony. “What do you mean?”

“The triangle-torso. Don’t you think it’s a bit much? Body building hasn’t been in at least half a decade.” His eyes were judgy. Steve felt a vein on his forehead throb. Did Tony have no filter? Did propriety mean nothing to him? Maybe he learned that from Howard, but at least Howard didn’t comment on someone’s body right in front of them. 

Steve wasn’t really sure what to say. For a moment he felt like he was that kid in the back alley that also lost the fight. “I like how I look,” he finally said.

“Really? Hmm.” It was said with such disbelief that Steve had to question himself. He thought about all the people he’d seen since waking up. No one was even close to his body type…

Steve focused back on the outline he was sketching. The silence only lasted ten minutes. 

“How much can you bench press?” 

Steve wanted to groan. He didn’t need anymore invasive questions. He was still feeling unbalanced from the last ones.

Steve didn’t even know what a normal person with his build could weight-lift. He tried to do the math, but didn’t really have a basis of knowledge. Weakly, he said, “A lot.”

Tony gwaffed. “You’re a piece of work. I guess you do the body-building more for the looks than to push yourself.” Tony waved off the words that were on the tip of Steve’s tongue. “Don’t worry, us vain narcissist have to stick together.”

Steve smothered a sigh and replaced it with a chuckle. “Yeah.” 

He was relieved when Tony didn’t reply. He finished the sketch then pulled out the paint. 

“But you know,” Tony started, “your head doesn’t really fit your body. What was that term?” Tony glanced upwards as if the answer was in the sky. Lord have mercy on Steve’s soul. “Pinhead! That’s the one!” Tony laughed and laughed and laughed. 

Steve almost snapped his painting knife in half. 

Tony Stark was a no-good bully.

*

Thor gave his younger brother a warning look. After all, it was only natural for women to fawn over Thor. Loki was just being his usual jealous self. 

The petite woman had a hand-held gizmo and was waving it around him. Her eyes were filled with amazement, as they should be. He was a god and prince, the bravest warrior of all. 

From the corner of his eye he saw Loki pinching the bridge of his nose. 

The buxom woman of the pair, Darcy, was standing at a distance from them, a different device in her hand. She was holding it at eye level and chewing on her bottom lip. Thor gave her a charming smile. She blushed beautifully. He didn’t know which one he wanted to take to bed first. 

But then the petite woman, Jane, went over to Loki. Thor held back a scowl.

“I think not,” Loki said while putting a hand on her device and lowering it. Jane pouted. “I’m sorry, my lady, but I must ask you some questions before you continue in this endeavor.” 

“You sound all fancy like,” Darcy drew out. She looked Loki over from head to toe. Thor moved to block her view, to  _ better _ her view. 

“Tis the way of Asgard,” Thor announced, proud of how superior his world was. 

Behind him, he heard Loki sigh. “This was supposed to be a covert endeavor.” 

“Oh, did you travel through the Bifrost?” Jane asked. Thor turned back towards her. “That would explain the readings I got.” 

“You know of the Bifrost?” Loki hedged. 

“Of course! I’m an astrophysicist! Dr. van Dyne in conjunction with Dr. Stark wrote a paper about the Bifrost. It was required reading for my doctoral program.” She was nearly bouncing on her toes. “I’ve already been tapped to help build one when the project starts in the next four decades.” 

Loki pursed his lips. 

Thor laughed. “The Bifrost is not such a simple thing to be built by mere mortals.” He didn’t notice how Jane’s eyes narrowed. 

“Perhaps an exchange of knowledge would be beneficial,” Loki said, taking a step closer to Jane. She lit up. 

Thor had no interest in tawdry talks of magic, which was doubtlessly what Loki would go on about—it was the only thing he ever spoke about. “Or we can drink and make merry!” 

Jane gave him a flat look that reminded him all too often on how Loki looked at him. His chest puffed up in annoyance, about to give her a tongue lashing. 

“Prince Thor, let’s leave these two nerds alone. I’d love to get a drink,” Darcy said, saddling up beside him. Thor’s anger fleeted away. 

“Thor, we should not separate. The All-Father made his orders clear.” Loki glanced between him and Jane. He was needlessly worrying, as he was wont to do. 

Thor threw his arm around Darcy, paying no mind to the soft grunt she made. “I shall speak to the mortals and doubtlessly get more information than you will!” Thor laughed and led Darcy away, despite not really knowing which direction the nearest tavern was.

*

Shuri had grown up with the promise of unlimited knowledge and wealth as her birthright. At the age of sixteen, she found neither of those things to be true. That’s not to say that she lived in ignorance or poverty, merely that she had expected more. And maybe that made her greedy or spoiled rotten, but she didn’t see herself that way. 

She didn’t need to worry about money like many others did. She was grateful for that. It was knowledge that she truly valued. Wakanda had more than most countries did, their vibranium a source of countless possibilities. But where Wakanda’s progression forward had been constant, the outside world was starting to move forward leaps and bounds. 

Shuri wanted to be part of it. She wanted to be on the cutting edge and push it forward even faster. The leaps of technology were tamper proof, puzzles in their own right. She had to be at the source to learn and understand. 

But her parents, the king and queen of Wakanda, refused to let her travel outside of the borders. Wakanda had become even more insular and nearly paranoid. Shuri could understand that. Country after country had fallen prey to the UC, giving up their independence in favor of being distracted by pretty things and fast rides. 

Shuri also had a new reason to venture from the safety of home and Wakanda. Her inventions had picked up on an energy wave that came from New York, an energy wave that proceeded only seconds before the strange phenomenon that had overtaken the world. 

Unconsented violence against other people was impossible. Shuri had tried to test it, the Doras being willing participants, but could gather no data beyond how close attacks of various kinds could come to the intended victim. 

Another facet of the phenomenon was that no violence could be done against pets. She had not witnessed it, but heard many reports throughout the world. What counted as a pet varied though. Shuri hadn’t yet puzzled out the parameters. 

So, in the pursuit of knowledge, she raided the equipment storage for the Wakandan spies, taking UC tender, made herself a passport and other IDs, and clothes that would help her blend in. With a bag of her dearest possessions and technology, she took one of the stealth fliers that she’d designed. 

It was only when she was out of Wakanda and over the ocean that her heart returned to a normal pace. 

But then her jet shuddered. Right above her head white-hot sparks rained down on her. She hastily unstrapped herself, trying to get away from the burning bites. A perfect circle of metal was lifted from the ceiling. 

A black man with gold coating on his upper canines jumped through the hole. “Wassup, cuz?”


	3. Rewrites

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sry I haven't gotten to respond to your comments! Been busy with my new job (that pays like nothing).
> 
> Also, Leo Fitz (Tony's adopted lil bro) is back!
> 
> Much love!

* * *

 

As far as Stephen Strange was concerned, Tony Stark was the devil—and that was saying something considering he knew real demons. 

Tony was the devil because he tempted Stephen time and time again to ignore the teachings of the Ancient One and instead use magic selfishly. Stephen was the Sorcerer Supreme, the protector of Earth, but he was weak. 

Tony tempted him with a three-pronged attack, his eyes, his Soul Stone, and innate ability to push his buttons—Both good and bad buttons. 

Now Stephen was mired in his newest self-flagellation. Tony had goaded him on with promises of a better tomorrow, world-peace, and seeing loved ones. Stephen had let Tony use the Time Stone, not once, but five times in quick succession. One time was for Stephen’s own gain. 

They had been drinking—Well, Stephen had been drinking, Tony never partook. Instead he had been drinking some coffee-chocolate concoction. Stephen could take part of the blame. He was a cuddler when he drank.

They’d been sharing an outdoor-couch. Tony, with his fiendish fingers, had been playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—Stephen’s weak spot. With his soft words he built a utopia, painting it with magic and promises. They lamented the loss of their loved ones, and how the world was cruel to take them before their time. He spoke of all the wrong in the world that he wanted to fix, that they could fix  _ together _ . Tony’s words were honey, and his warm breath tickled his ear. 

And how could Stephen resist that? At least this time he hadn’t fallen into bed with him. 

It hadn’t helped in the least that Tony said his future-self had already used the Time Stone to keep him from murdering a man who attacked his mother. 

But now Wong was side-eyeing him, being judgmental even though he was eating some of the food Tony had brought over. Such a hypocrite. 

Tony and Stephen had used the Time Stone together, rewriting the past so that it said the same thing, but with different meaning, subtext that only affected the present. 

And how was Stephen supposed to regret having his little sister back? How could he feel bad when Tony had cried happy tears as he embraced the two people who gave him a childhood when his father had abandoned him? 

But Stephen certainly shouldn’t have let Tony have free reign of the Time Stone that evening. But he’d been on a high from being reunited with his (very confused) sister. Tony had gone on and on about how having the Time Stone was useless if he didn’t use it for the betterment of the whole universe. 

Tony’s eyes had been full of stars and hope, an intoxicating combination that nearly left Stephen breathless. 

Wong loudly balled up the now empty foil before throwing it at Stephen’s head. It bounced off. Stephen gave Wong a scathing glare. 

Stephen might have deserved that. 

*

The Winter Soldier stared at his right hand. It was scarred and obvious that more than one finger had been broken before. He rubbed his thumb against the pads of his fingers. He could feel the calluses, but had no clear memory of what caused them. 

The clothes he was wearing were soft. Soft feel, soft color, soft smell. Light blue shirt. Grey drawstring sweatpants. Fluffy socks. The Winter Soldier wiggled his toes. He thought the socks were… He didn’t have a word for it, but knew it was positive. 

He stayed in the bed, not knowing if he was allowed to leave it. 

The night before had been a blur. Or was it two nights ago?

He’d been on a mission, another assassination. One target, another collateral. He’d caused their car to crash then there were lights. After that he lost consciousness only to be awoken by blinding yellow light and his brain feeling like it was being shredded. 

Yet, he’d never been so self-aware before. He could feel physical things beyond pain and how a weapon fit in his hand. 

But he could feel nothing with his metal arm and hand though. He looked at it like it was new to him. But it had always been there, or had it? He wasn’t really sure about it, wasn’t sure about anything. 

No, he was sure that things were different now. Somehow he was sure that pain wasn’t just around the corner. For the first time in history anxiety wasn’t clutching at his throat, threatening to kill him at any moment. He could  _ breathe _ . 

There was a knock on the door of the room. 

The Winter Soldier didn’t react, didn’t  _ know _ how to react—if he was even  _ supposed _ to react. 

The door opened silently, only enough for a man to peak his head in. Dark hair, smooth features, vaguely familiar. “Sergeant Barnes,” he said, voice soothing and posh. 

Sergeant Barnes? Was that one of his designations? Asset. Yasha. Winter Soldier. He couldn’t remember it, but it somehow felt familiar. He flexed his fingers in the sheets again. 

He opened the door a bit wider. “Good morning. I am Jarvis Tesla. You are in the shared living quarters of FoTs.” Jarvis’ smiled, a hint of humor there. “I am here to explain your situation to you.” He did not move from his place in the doorway, as if he was waiting for something. 

The Winter Soldier didn’t understand why or what he could be waiting on. 

After a beat, Jarvis nodded his head before going into the room. He was carrying a bottle of water. He set it down on the nightstand before pulling out a chair from a desk the Winter Soldier hadn’t noticed before. He set it by the bed, taking a seat and a moment to look him over. 

“First, I must give you my deepest condolences on the pain and suffering you went through. Your full name is James Buchanan Barnes,” then the Winter Soldier was inundated with information and a history that didn’t seem to quite fit. But the Winter Soldier didn’t perceive any deception. Why he knew that, he couldn’t say. “On your last mission you,” Jarvis licked his lips, a movement that almost looked unnatural on him, “you were targeting Sir, Anthony Stark. He used his Infinity Stone he stopped you. Through the use of a different one his older counterpart retrieved you and brought you to the present, 2011.”

The Winter Soldier—Bucky, as he was told he used to go by—wasn’t sure how to react, how he was  _ supposed  _ to react. Jarvis claimed he was human. Humans reacted to things like this. 

“I must also beg your forgiveness. Without your consent we used the Mind Stone to remove your trigger words.” Bucky must have looked confused, because Jarvis went on. “Was it consent, the Mind Stone, or trigger words you didn’t understand?” he asked. Bucky didn’t know how to respond, not just mentally, but how to speak. “Together, the Infinity Stones can do nearly anything. We could have gone further back and rescued you on the day you fell off the train, but the further we go the chance of changing the past so much that we didn’t acquire the Time Stone, rendering the process essentially moot.” Bucky was starting to get a headache, but it was dull and he knew there was worse pain out there. 

“On the matter of consent,” Jarvis paused, “for the majority of your life you were not given a say when it came to your own being or actions. To continue that would be an injustice, yet we allowed it to happen one more time in order to remove the blocks that would make recovery impossible. The trigger words were part of that block. If used, it would destroy any progress you could have made for mental healing.” 

Bucky’s mouth opened, moving, but saying nothing. 

Jarvis nodded and reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand, handing it to Bucky. He looked at it, condensation wetting his hand. But he knew what to do with this. Taking in fuel was instinctual. 

Jarvis smiled softly. “Take your time.” He stood and put the chair back in its place by the desk. “You have plenty of it now.” 

*

Jarvis— _ Ana _ Jarvis swallowed down a new pill. She couldn’t take her eyes off her Edwin. Even now, tears still blurred her vision. His hand rarely ventured far from her own. 

She was still trying to wrap her head around what happened, what she had  _ learned _ . She’d never liked Obidiah Stane, partially because of the murky colors that had surrounded him that only she could see. It had been a sick miasma, worse than even Howard’s had become. 

The other reason she didn’t like him was because he seemed to twist every situation to his advantage, something that couldn’t be done unless underhanded methods were used. 

Her Edwin had gone to Howard to voice her concerns, but had been quickly dismissed. 

Now to learn that Stane had tried—thought he succeeded—at killing both Edwin and her made her regret that she hadn’t done more to cut his ties with Stane. 

But before Edwin stepped into the car that Stane had sabotaged, before she could bite into a nearly fairy-tale poisoned apple, three people appeared in a flash of green. A man in a red cape, another with Maria’s eyes, and a man that was too old to be her Tony—but he had been. 

The maybe/maybe-not Tony had knocked the apple from her hand and embraced her. From that all encompassing hug, she knew he was the boy that meant so much to her. He cried and all that she could do was whisper words of comfort. 

With garbled words and his face tucked against her shoulder, he spoke about how she’d been murdered, how he was here to save her even though his younger self had to believe she was dead. 

When he pulled away Ana wiped away his tears with her thumb. She was startled to see a duplicate of herself on the floor, motionless and with a bitten apple nearby. She was speechless and remained so as they went to the future until she was face to face with her late-husband. 

For a moment she believed she must be in heaven. Her Edwin was returned to her. Her Tony was happy. It was all too perfect to be of this earthly-realm. But Tony had assured her otherwise and she believed him. She’d always known that he was capable of the impossible. 

After more tearful reunions, Ana and Edwin were in the med-bay of Tony’s home—Tony’s mansion. They were going through a battery of medical tests and given vaccines to prevent all sorts of things, pills to rejuvenate them, and an IV that were flushing her blood with something that she didn’t quite understand. Tony had tried to go on about putting caps on DNA to keep them from unravelling, but her schooling had never included anything biology related. But she trusted him to do what was best for them. 

Ana could already feel old aches being eased away, sun spots on her skin fading, her lungs filling up like they had before she smoked briefly in her teens. 

Edwin and Tony were talking about the time after he ‘died’ up to when Ana ‘died’. It was interesting to see his perspective, to learn about the Infinity Stones and what had been going on behind the scenes. Knowing that Tony had the Soul Stone from birth explained why he’d always shined bright in her eyes. 

Ana admitted her ability to see colors around other people. Tony was delighted since he could do the same thing. He promised they’d compare notes once they were settled in at the FoT’s living quarters. 

Tony assured them that there were information packets in their room to help get them up to date. They didn’t have access to the Room of Doors yet, a room where all sorts of portals were open, allowing Tony and his friends to quickly travel to see each other. 

After all the tests, treatments, and their bodies changing, Ana and Edwin were knackered. Tony led them to their living quarters and promised they’d talk more tomorrow. 

Ana and Edwin fell asleep with their hands linked. 

*

Leo Fitz stared at his ringing cell phone, his eyes unfocused. His adopted mother, Maria Carbonell, was calling. He swore when he was sixteen that he’d always answer her calls. 

So much had changed since then, since he became estranged from Tony. 

He still loved his older brother, always would, but the way they saw the world clashed. The space between them had only gotten wider since Leo joined SHIELD. 

SHIELD, which would never fully trust him because he was the brother of their number one enemy. They only accepted him into their ranks because he was the only one in the world that had knowledge of Tony’s technology. 

SHIELD shouldn’t trust him either. He was holding back so much information that he’d promised never to let outsiders know about—information on Tony’s magic, his Infinity Stones, and the greater universe. 

Leo couldn’t use the telekinesis magic that Tony had taught him on one summer vacation where they all went camping. He had to bite his tongue with agents said something he knew was wrong. He had to put up with the looks of suspicion every day. 

But at least he had Jemma Simmons, the only person that trusted him outright and didn’t try to get him to reveal secrets from his childhood. She was also the woman who he’d been enamored with since they went through the SHIELD training program together. He just hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask her out yet. 

The phone kept ringing, the noise piercing his brain. Jemma gave him a worried look from the other side of their lab. 

He took in a breath, hoping the call wasn’t about Tony, wasn’t about reconciliation. 

Their dispute boiled down to where they put their faith. Leo believed in the people, in the natural progression of the world, finding a peace that wasn’t artificial, wasn’t forced. Tony had finally done what he’d dreamed of, using the Infinity Stone’s to stop violence.

Tony’s ‘revolution’ was bound to implode. Leo wasn’t looking forward to when it all fell apart. That was another reason he’d joined SHIELD. He was helping them prepare for the worst. 

With a slow intake of breath, he answered his phone. 

“Hey, mum.” 

“Leo,” she said softly, love clear in her voice. “How are you, sweetie?” 

“I’m at work.” He cringed. He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. “I’m okay. I’ve been eating my vegetables.” 

Maria chuckled. “Even your brussel sprouts?” 

Leo scoffed. “Maybe not all my vegetables.” Maria laughed. “No one makes them like you do.” 

“That’s the perfect reason to come home. We’re having a bit of a family reunion.” Maria paused. “It would mean a lot to Tony and me for you to meet your relatives,” she said hesitantly. 

The Jarvises. Tony used to go on and on about them. Leo should have known Tony would mess around and bring them back. He’d already played with the universe, making it into his version of a utopia. What was plucking two people from the past compared to that?

Leo sat back in his seat. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, mum.” If he did it would just cause another round of interrogations. He’d be put under the microscope again and the little trust he’d built up with SHIELD would be shattered again. 

“Leo…” 

“I’ll call you this weekend and you can tell me how it went.”

Maria didn’t respond right away. “Alright, sweetie. Tell Jemma I say hi.” 

“I will. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” Leo hung up and felt a hundred years old. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This won't be Tony/Stephen. Tony's just had a lot of intimate encounters in his life~

**Author's Note:**

> *vibrates in place* What do you think?


End file.
